


Blame It On the Juice

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Guilt, Jack Zimmermann's Overdose, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jack doesn't drink anymore.





	Blame It On the Juice

When Jack wakes up, Kent’s in the other bed eating cereal and watching TV.  The volume is all the way down, but with the hangover he has, even the crunch of Kent’s Frosted Flakes makes his head pound.  Kent glances over when he groans, and that’s when Jack gets his first look at the right side of Kent’s face.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jack mumbles.

The bruise is darkest at Kent’s cheekbone, fading slightly before it disappears behind his hairline.  His eye is puffy, the color is just settling in.  Whatever happened to him happened recently, and it had to hurt like hell.

“Real funny, Zimms,” Kent says.  He takes another bite of cereal, and Jack notices that he’s chewing on the side opposite the bruise.  Kent’s shirtless with the hotel comforter across his lap, and—aside from a hickey low on his throat—Jack doesn’t see any other marks on him.  Kent’s hands don’t look like he got in a fight.

“I’m serious, Kenny,” Jack says as he sits up.  “What happened?”

“Were you really that sloshed last night?” Kent asks.  “Dude, you need to take it easy with the-”

“ _Who the hell hit you?”_

Jack never yells.  He barely even talks to most people—that’s Kent’s job.  The shock of hearing him raise his voice takes away all of Kent’s tact and bravado, and his response comes out before he has time to censor himself.

“You did.”

The air goes out of the room.  Jack tries to remember the party last night, but he only comes up with little flashes of crowds and Solo cups.  For a moment they’re both frozen, but then Kent puts his cereal bowl on the nightstand and gets out of bed.  He sits just behind Jack, wrapping his arms around his waist lightly and letting his chin rest on Jack’s shoulder.  Jack feels like he might be sick when he realizes Kent’s trying to comfort him.

“It’s no big deal, Zimms,” Kent says.  His breath on Jack’s neck makes him shiver.  “I’ll tell people it happened when we were practicing.  Puck to the face sounds right, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ, you think that’s what I’m worried about?”

Jack forces himself to pull away.  When he turns to look at Kent, the seventeen year old is leaned back against the headboard, looking confused but not overly bothered by their situation.  He looks like this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

“I hit you last night?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” Kent says.  “We were drunk, and I was being an asshole.”

Jack thinks about eight year old Kent Parson, gap-toothed and covered in freckles.  They didn’t know each other then, but he’s seen the pictures on Amanda Parson’s walls.  Her husband left when Kent was eight, but not before he taught his son that violence was a condition of love.

“Has this happened before?” Jack asks.  Kent just shrugs, and yeah, Jack’s definitely going to be sick.

-

Jack starts pushing Kent away and stops drinking.  Alcohol had done a lot to numb his anxiety though, so he takes more pills.  He takes pills and pills and pills and pills and-

Jack overdoses.

Kent is the one to find him, of course, but Jack can at least refuse to see him at the hospital.  He still calls, and Jack can see the pain in his parents’ eyes every time they see another voicemail from Kent pop up on Jack’s phone.  They love Kent like a son, but Jack _is_ their son and they’ll stand by his decision.  They tell him to do whatever he has to to get better, and staying away from Kent is better for everyone.

-

Kent shows up at Samwell, looking for Jack.  He’s got the Aces and the Cup and the Calder and a C on his jersey, but he still comes looking for Jack.

And damn, if that doesn’t do something for his ego.

The other guys on the Samwell team are excited to meet Kent, so it takes them a while to get a minute alone.  Jack doesn’t mind though.  It gives him time to figure out what he needs to do.  They can’t be around each other anymore, but Kent has never taken very well to being told what’s good for him. 

Finally, they end up alone in Jack’s room.  Kent keeps chattering, eager to please, like he had with the guys, and Jack waits for an opportunity to tear him down.  He has to hit Kent where it really hurts, or Kent will never stop coming to Samwell.

“The guys are all really cool,” Kent says.  “You’d like the Aces, Jack.”

Here it is.

“Well, they were supposed to be my team, weren’t they?” Jack says.  Kent’s expression falters.  Jack imagines the bruise across his cheek again.

“What?”

“I mean, let’s be realistic, Kenny,” Jack says.  Hockey is what Kent loves most in the world—more than his teammates and the attention and himself and even Jack.  Jack has to use that if he’s going to scare him away.  “If I hadn’t overdosed when I did, I would have gone to the Aces and gotten the Cup.  None of this is really _yours,_ you know?”

“Either one of us could have gone first,” Kent denies, shaking his head.  He’s too quiet though, and he’s not making eye contact anymore.

“Come on,” Jack says.  “You don’t really believe that, do you?  That the Aces were torn up between Bob Zimmermann’s son and Kent Parson?”

Kent flinches at the way Jack says his name, like he’s nothing and nobody.  Kent never used to flinch.  He’d always lean into the hit when Jack checked him at practice, but the words land like a cinderblock.

“Well, at least I wasn’t dumb enough to nearly kill myself right before the draft,” Kent says.  He grabs his keys from where he’d dropped them and toes into his sneakers.  “I’ll see you around, Jack.”

-

Bittle is everything Kent was and wasn’t.  He’s small and blond and on Jack’s line.  He’s Southern and afraid of checking and doesn’t like Jack.  He doesn’t lean into the hit.  He passes out in the floor if you get to close to him, and Jack knows that, off the ice, he will never lay a hand on Eric Bittle.

This is exactly what he needed.

-

_I’m sure that’ll make your dad proud._

Jack figures he probably deserves that after what he said to Kent last time, but it still stings.  Everything Kent said stings, but that’s a problem for another time.  Right now, he has to deal with Bittle overhearing them.  Even after all this, he doesn’t want Bittle to hate Kent.

Kent and Bob’s relationship had always been complicated.  Like a lot of teenagers, Jack hadn’t wanted much to do with his dad.  Kent, on the other hand, hadn’t had a father figure in his life since third grade.  Bob Zimmermann was one of his hockey heroes, and Kent couldn’t help taking advantage of having access to him.  Jack had come home more than once to find Kent and his dad outside practicing.

It was more than just hockey though.  Bob taught Kent to drive and took him to take his driving test.  He paid Kent’s hockey fees and took him shopping for new school clothes after the summer he hit his growth spurt.  He took him to movies and Pens games and introduced him to former teammates.  It was like watching what Bob and Jack could have been if Jack had been a little more outgoing, a little more confident, and little less anxious, and that’s why it was complicated.

Jack knew his dad loved him, of course.  There was no mistaking that.  But there was also no mistaking the fact that it broke Bob Zimmermann’s heart to leave Kent behind.  So Bob pretended they weren’t still in touch, and Jack pretended he didn’t know.

-

Jack goes to Providence to play with the Falconers.  He’s only been there for a couple months when he walks in on Tater and Kent making out in the locker room.  Kent scrambles away from Tater and goes pale, but Alexei just laughs and says, “Is okay, Kenny.  Zimmboni good guy, will not tell anyone.”

Kent’s lips thin like he’s about two seconds away from telling Tater exactly what kind of guy Jack is, but he doesn’t say anything.  The damage is done though.  Jack’s an anxious mess anytime the Falconers and the Aces are anywhere near each other.  He’s afraid Kent will tell Tater what happened between them, and he’s overanalyzing every detail he hears about Alexei and Kent.  Tater seems like a nice guy, but Jack thinks he probably did too.  He read somewhere that people who have been abused before—gap-toothed eight year old Kent Parson—are more likely to be abused again.

Bitty notices how anxious he gets when they play the Aces and the way he always defends Kent when anyone says something against him.  Eventually, he asks why Jack doesn’t hate Kent, and Jack doesn’t have a good answer for him.  He can’t tell Bitty that he never gets mad when Kent does crazy things like show up at his school on the other side of the country, not once but twice, because he made Kent the way he is.  He’s the reason Kent’s fucked up inside.  He’s the reason Kent would fly across the country to see a guy who punched him in the face.

-

The third time they play the Aces, Jack ends up going to dinner with Kent and Tater.  He’s only not sure how he ended up there, but he feels like he’s sweating more than he did during the game.  Tater doesn’t seem to notice, but Kent’s demeanor changes as soon as his boyfriend goes to the bathroom.

“Stop looking at him like he’s about to throw me across the table,” Kent says.  “Christ, Jack, not every guy who looks at me is going to hit me.”

“I-” Jack starts, but the rest of the sentence dies in his mouth.

“It’s not like you were some monster either,” Kent says.  “You were seventeen too, and you only ever hit me when you were drunk.”

“I never should have hit you,” Jack whispers.  “But I’m not…  I’m not who I was back then.  I swear, Kent, I would never hit Eric or anybody else.  I don’t even drink anymore.”

“I believe you.”

“I’m-” Jack swallows hard.  “I’m so sorry, Kent.”

“I know,” Kent says.  “Just be better, okay?”

Jack nods.  _Be better._ At the end of the day, he and Kent still want what’s best for each other.  That morning in the hotel room—the bruise on Kent’s face, Kent trying to comfort him and make excuses—has been wrapped around his throat for nearly a decade.  Jack just wants to be better.

Alexei returns from the bathroom and sits down.  “What are talking about without me?” he asks, taking a sip from his drink.

“Just catching up,” Kent says smoothly.  “I told you we’ve known each other since we were teenagers, right?”

“Yes,” Tater says.  “Very long time.”

They’re talking about Jack, but he’s only looking at Kent.  Tater’s hand on Kent’s shoulder is light and affectionate, and he’s looking at him like he hung the moon.  Jack knows that someday Tater will probably find out what happened between them, but right now, Kent’s okay and that’s enough.

 _I’m better,_ Jack promises silently.  _I’ll be better._

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, I don't think this actually happened in Check Please canon. I just thought it would be an interesting idea worth exploring.


End file.
